


Werk

by gindokiis



Category: Voltron Force, Voltron: Defender of the Universe, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Twerking, Underage Drinking, and this is what happens when you request twerking, because sai requested twerking, i cannot find it anywhere, where is the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7774525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gindokiis/pseuds/gindokiis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance asked if there were any dance clubs in space, and everything just went downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Werk

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely [Sai](https://twitter.com/officialkuroo). Who after I asked on twitter for Voltron fanfic prompt requests, asked for Lance twerking as a joke, thought I wouldn't deliver B).

**Werk**

“I want to go home!”  Keith is upset. Though upset is putting it _quite mildly._ He’s sweaty. There are bodies touching him everywhere. He felt like a sardine crushed in a can. On a normal day, when the world was pure and everything was running normally, Keith would never be caught at a club. Let alone a dance club found in space. He didn’t think such a thing was possible. Yet Allura and Coran had mentioned there were some planets out there with civilizations that closely mirrored Earth’s.

Then Lance had asked if there were alien dance clubs and everything went downhill from there.

“Oh come on, Keith. We just got here. We just got _our drinks_.” Lance had two shot glasses in his hands filled with some blue-looking liquid.

“Are you really going to drink that?” Keith asked, lips curled in disgust as Lance held the shot glass under his nose. “That smells _foul_!”

Lance just shrugged. “Can’t burn any worse than Earth alcohol.” He downs the shot and immediately his entire body _shivers_. “Fuck! That’s ----- oh, oh there it is.” His body goes slack against the bar counter. Lance’s smile seems looser, more . . . oh _no._

“You’re drunk!” that was like, rule number one of the many rules Shiro had given to them before going to the bar. One, have a buddy. Two, don’t drink anything unless you’re 100% sure it’s safe. Three, _don’t blow anything up._

“Yoooooou’re drunk.” Lance giggled. A hiccup tumbled out of his lips as he swayed forward, throwing an arm on Keith’s shoulder. He waved the shot glass of blue liquid under Keith’s nose. “C’mon. C’moooon. Drink up! We’re here ----- here to get lit! ‘Ust lookit Hunk over there!”

Lance pointed over to a nearby table. Keith let his eyes wander over to where Lance was pointing. On a table was Hunk, dabbing and _sans a shirt._ Oh no.

“He’s drunk too! Shiro’s gonna kill us!”

“Oh, God yes. I hope he does it with the cybernetic arm. That would be such a cooool way to go, ya know?” Lance slurred, trying once more to push the glass against Keith’s lips. Keith scowled and pushed the shot glass away.

“I’m not drinking!” he wanted to find Pidge or Allura or even _Coran_. Someone to save him from drunk Lance. How’d he even get stuck with him anyways? Shitty luck of the draw, probably.

He should have said he was sick. Down with a stomach ache from eating a lot of space goo. Being around a drunk Lance who seemed to love touching him, surrounded by sweaty alien club goers and intense bass thumping music was not his forte. Nope. Nope he wanted to _go home_.

“You’re no fun,” Lance huffed. A pout formed on his lips as he leaned back against the bar counter. “You know I was lookin’ forward to hang with your stupid self but now you’re just being STUPID.”

“Uh . . .” Keith’s eyes widened a fraction from the confession. So a drunk Lance was an _honest_ Lance.

“We’re . . . we’re always fighting!” Lance continued, his pout growing all the more as he continued to slump. “Fighting and saving the world and riding mechanical cats and like, we can’t ---- we can’t go home dude. I can’t ----- what does the ocean even look like anymore, you know? I think that sometimes and I hate it but one night, we get one night to just fuck the fucky around and be chill and you don’t even want to do that. DUDE TAKE THIS SHOT BEFORE I TAKE THIS SHOT.”

Now Keith’s just floored. Lance is close to tears and he’s mumbling to himself the pros and cons of downing the shot for him. While Keith’s trying to process everything he’s just heard in the past couple of minutes. It’s the first time he’s heard Lance open up like that. The blue paladin was generally all bluster. The comedian. The guy who could lighten the room with quick wit and funny remarks. But . . . to see him so raw. That was . . . surprising.

Keith glanced down at the shot glass in Lance’s hand. With a sigh, he stuck out his hand. “G-Give it here.” He gritted out.

Lance’s eyes widened, and he hopped away from the bar counter to hand Keith the drink. “YAS! LET’S FUCKING GOOOO!”

Keith’s already regretting his choice but he’s not gonna back out now. Keith took one more wary glance at the shot glass before he tilted his head back and brought it to his lips. The burn scorched his throat like fire. He gagged, pulling the shot glass away. In the middle of it all was Lance screaming: “CHUG THAT MOTHERFUCKER CHUUUUGGG !”

And then, it hit Keith.

“Oh. _Oh_.” He stumbles a bit, head hitting Lance’s chest. Shit. That really _was_ some potent stuff. What sort of liver did aliens have? How high were their tolerance? Do they dab or do they prefer the whip and nae nae? These were so important. Such important questions for Keith to know-----

“Keith. Buddy. Pal.” Lance patted Keith on the face a couple of times. “You good?”

Keith pulled back, his lips sliding into a sloppy and lopsided grin. “I’m grrreeaaaat.”

“Fuck yes! That’s what I wanna hear!” the song in the club changed, and the entire crowd went _wild_. Couples were pairing up left and right and Lance was bouncing on the balls of his shit. “Yo I am feeling this jam! Dance with me!”

Before Keith can say no, Lance is pulling him into the crowd. Through a throng of aliens and humanoid like beings and some _not so humanoid like beings_ in the crowd. On their way to the dancefloor Keith spotted Pidge at a table talking animatedly with an alien and their robot dog. He saw Shiro and Coran arm-wrestling shortly after. And Allura was showing off her chameleon powers to a group of onlookers.

“I’m so glad they’re having fun! They deserve it. I LOVE YOU GUYS!” Keith blurted out.

“We’re about to have even more fun!” Lance shouted back.

They were on the dance floor, gyrating bodies surrounding them. Lance shot Keith a smirk before pulling their hips flush together. Keith gasped, heat rushing through his body. Close. So close. Or maybe that was the alcohol doing a round two on his system? Did alcohol get a second wind? Since when was Lance’s face so smooth?

“Dude what the heck,” Keith cupped Lance’s face, stroking his cheeks with his thumb. “So smooth.” Keith’s so _in awe_.

Lance chuckled, nuzzling into the hand. “Avocado mask. It’s an essential.” And then he’s rolling his hips and Keith mouth opens but what falls out isn’t a compliment, but a downright moan. Oh. _Oh that was unexpected._ Since when was Lance so good with his hips?

“Hold on,” there’s a voice in his ear. It takes a second for Keith to recognize that it’s Lance whispering in his ear. Or well, slurring. Slurshipering. Is that a word? Keith’s making it a ----

“Lance!” Keith’s face goes cherry red as Lance turns around and bends over, so it’s just his ass to his crotch. Lance starts wining, up and down, matching the slow and hypnotic pulsations around them perfectly.

Keith feels every movement _deliberately_ against his dick. In a sober mindset, he’d probably push Lance off. Or maybe allow himself three seconds of embarrassment enjoyment and _then_ push him off. But buzzed almost tipsy maybe trashed? Keith _indulged_. Though he had no idea what the heck to do with his hands.

“Hold my hips, babe.” Lance says, looking over his shoulder.

“B-Babe?” Keith sputters back.

“Hands! Hips!”

Keith’s hands fall to Lance’s hips, and he holds onto them with a tight grip. Lance goes to work. Rolling his hips backwards. Somehow perfectly isolating his glutes so they do crazy, but oh so _wonderful_ things against Keith’s hips. Then, Keith’s going with it. Biting his lip in drunken concentration as he tries to match Lance’s movements with hip rolls.

He groans, the heat and alcohol thrumming through his system. He forgets about the crowd. Or how much sweat is caked to his shirt and his neck. Or how he’s probably popping a boner right now because self-control is basically an illusion at this point. He focuses solely on Lance. His body. His movements that were as fluid as water.  

And then the song’s over. It’s slower than last time. Not so . . . sexually hyped. Lance is back to facing Keith now. He has his arms around Keith’s shoulders and Keith finally knows what to do with his hands, so they go right on Lance’s hips. They’re moving back and forth to the music, noses touching. Lance smirks at him and Keith can only do his best to mirror it.

“Enjoyed that?” Lance asks, rolling his hips. The fucker. _He knew._

Keith bit his lip to hold back a groan. “. . . Yes.” _Blame the alcohol for the truth slipping out of your lips. Blame the alcohol for you resting your head on his shoulder and breathing on his neck, a sharp inhale escaping as he rolls harder against you._

“Interesting . . .” but before Lance could do anything, Coran came pushing through the crowd.

“Boys! Boys!” Keith and Lance yelped, jumping apart from one another. Coran didn’t notice their dangerous proximity. Or if he did, he decided not to comment on it. It’s time to go! Hunk is ready to fight a yalmor and those get unnecessarily bloody so it’s time to leave.”

Keith and Lance shared glances, immediately sobering up once they heard a loud _bang_ followed by Hunk hollering like Tarzan. Right. Yup. Time to go.

* * *

 

The next morning Keith felt like death. One shot. _One shot of alien blue space liquor_ and Keith felt like a bulldozer had done him dirty. Getting out of bed to grab breakfast was murder. Thankfully, once he made it to the dining hall Shiro was already there with glasses of water for anyone who got a little out of hand last night.

“Rough night?” Shiro smirked, handing Keith a glass.

“Uggghhhhh,” was the only intelligent response Keith could manage. The taste of water was so refreshing though. He was already done with his first glass when Lance came trudging through.

“Water and advil please. Just force them into a tube to me. Or get Allura to feed me mouth to mouth.”

“You have two quite capable hands, Lance. Here.” Shiro handed Lance two glasses of water.

Lance groaned but took the glasses of water anyway. He lifted his eyes and met Keith’s gaze. Keith, he just realized, was staring at Lance with a weird itch in the back of his mind. Like he should ---- like he should _remember_ something.

Then it hits him. And he blushes as last night comes running through his head.

Apparently Lance remembered too, because he downed his glasses of water so fast he nearly choked. “I’m, uh, bed. Back to bed I go! Wake me up if the Galra’s attacking ‘kay bye.” Lance zips out of the kitchen like lightning, leaving a flustered Keith and a confused Shiro behind.

“So . . .” Shiro starts after a few moments of silence pass between them.

“Don’t ask,” Keith muttered, feeling the familiar heat crawl down his spine as he remembered all of Lance on all of him. Nope. Nope he did not need this mental image right now. He was going to crawl back into bed, shoes and all, and sleep off this hangover until training.

And if he slept without dreaming of how skilled Lance was with his hips, he’d be a happy camper.


End file.
